


The Little Things

by ScribbledGhost



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, nothin explicit though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-16 14:15:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29826201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScribbledGhost/pseuds/ScribbledGhost
Summary: Jack is on his way to a mission, and finds himself thinking about all the little things that make his life worth living.
Relationships: Jack | Whiskey (Kingsman)/Reader
Kudos: 2





	The Little Things

You had always told Jack that it was the little things that made life worth living. The big things were good too, but the little things always burned a little brighter. Jack thought about this as he sat on the private Statesman jet, flying to some far-flung area on another mission that he, truthfully, didn’t particularly care to be on.

Reaching into his back pocket, Jack pulled out his worn leather wallet and flipped it open, revealing a small picture of you. You were staring off to the right side of the picture, the sunset behind you and his Stetson on your head. Your eyes were almost as bright as your smile, and it never failed to make Jack smile along when he saw the photo. It was one of the first pictures he’d ever taken of you, and it remained his favorite.

Jack was grateful that he’d managed to capture one of those “little things” on camera to come back to later. As he looked down at the picture, his mind started to wander as he started to remember more of those small moments. The ones that got him through the long nights in unfamiliar lands with unfriendly people.

He remembered the first time he’d kissed you. He’d asked for permission, his voice uncharacteristically small as he looked at you from under the brim of his hat. You’d given him a crooked smile, placed both hands on his face, and gently guided his lips to yours. When the two of you pulled away, he’d rested his forehead on yours and as you locked eyes with each other, laughter had begun to bubble from you both. Jack had picked you up at the waist then, twirling you around once as you leaned in to kiss him again.

He remembered when he’d taken you camping with him one autumn weekend. He’d found a secluded spot where the two of you could enjoy the quiet and each other’s company. You’d spent the day lounging in between short hikes around the woods surrounding the campsite, but made the decision to stay put at camp when you’d both seen angry storm clouds forming in the distance. Sure enough, a few hours later you found yourselves running to the pickup truck Jack had driven that day, the rain pouring too hard for you to sleep in the small, flimsy tent you’d set up. Amidst the sound of pounding rain and thunder, you two had made love in the backseat of the truck that night. It had been cramped. It had been clumsy. It had been perfect. Jack found himself smiling at the memory.

He remembered just that morning. He’d woken you up just before the sun rose, his needy hands running themselves along your skin. You’d indulged him this morning, willingly let him roll you onto your back so he could spend time in the soft morning light worshipping every move, breath, and sound you made as he continued his ministrations. He’d taken his time with you this morning, making sure he’d committed as much of you to memory as possible so he’d have something to hold onto while he was away. After what had felt like hours of hushed praises and murmured declarations of love between kisses, he relaxed onto you, covering your body with his. Jack had shifted so he could lay his head on your chest, lost in the sound of your heartbeat. He remembered how you’d kept one hand on his back while the other gently ran itself through his hair. He remembered how he had never wanted to leave.

Jack was jolted out of his memories by the sudden shift in the jet signaling its descent. He let out a weary sigh, eager to get this mission over with so he could get back home to you. As he folded up his wallet and returned it to his pocket, he smiled to himself. It was the little things that made life worth living, and as long as you loved him, he knew he’d never run out of little things to live for.


End file.
